A Whole Latte Murder

by Caroline Fardig

  “Yes. Not a problem,” I replied.

  “Is your head in the game?”

  “Yes.”

  She cast me a sidelong glance. “What was all that with Pete? I thought you were setting him up with Brooke, not taking him for yourself. Or is it just a quick rebound thing over Hamilton? Friends with benefits, perhaps?”

  “It’s none of those things. Pete and I have been friends for a long time, and there could be more to it, but we’re both too broken right now to even try to make a go of it.”

  “You’re scared.”

  “Hell, yeah. We screw this up, and we both lose the best friendship we ever had.”

  Pulling up to the curb, she turned to me. “I don’t know. I think I’d prefer to fail spectacularly rather than live a life with regrets.”

  The woman made a good point.

  She handed me a small rectangular object about the size of my pinky finger. “This is a recording device.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yes, wow. It cost me five hundred dollars, so don’t lose it. Keep it on you so we can record your conversation with the doctor.”

  “If I’m getting an exam, won’t I be kind of naked?”

  “Yes, so turn around.”

  I turned as well as I could in her vehicle, and she pulled out a couple of rubber bands and some bobby pins. I watched in the visor mirror as she tugged at my hair, pulling it into a sexy, tousled mess on top of my head. She hid the recorder in my nest of hair.

  “There. Now don’t shake your head around too much and you’ll be fine.”

  I studied my reflection, impressed. “I like it. I need you to show me how to do that.”

  “Later. Now it’s time to focus. Do we need to go over the plan one more time?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  After hoisting myself out of the car, I slowly made my way down the sidewalk and around the Genesis Building to the back door. There were a couple of lights on—the Genesis office was lit up, as was the escort office on the second floor. When I tried it, the back door was locked, so I knocked. After a moment, Micah appeared, all smiles.

  “Hello again, Leslie,” he said as he ushered me inside.

  We were in a small entryway with three doors. Based on the windows Pete and I had peeked into when we followed Kira here, the door on the right had to lead to the room filled with medical equipment. Micah opened the door straight ahead, which led downstairs.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  Damn it. He wasn’t taking me to his office this time, so I couldn’t do anything about the locked door for Maya.

  Beginning to feel apprehensive, I followed him carefully down the stairs, only nearly falling once. I was expecting a musty old basement, but when we got down there it was anything but. The place smelled clean, like hospital clean, and everything was white—floors, walls, ceiling. He led me down a hallway that had four rooms on the left side, each with a large window facing the hallway. The blinds were all pulled closed. If these were the exam rooms, I found it odd that they had interior windows. Another equally odd thing was that the doors had card swipe devices next to them. I was glad I wasn’t actually considering going through with this egg donation business, because I did not want to be in this bizarre place for longer than I had to. Stopping at the last room, Micah pulled a key card out of a retractable holder clipped to his belt and swiped it into the card reader. The door popped open, and he held it for me to go inside.

  He handed me a card. “Here’s your card. You won’t be in here long, but just in case you need to use the restroom or something, you can get in and out of your exam room freely and your belongings will be safe. Don’t lose it.”

  Somewhat puzzled, I accepted the card. Glancing over at the door, I noticed another card reader on the inside as well as a box on the wall, this one with a button. Did I need this card to get out as well? Creepy.

  “Thanks.” Maya had told me I needed to keep him talking, but I was so nervous, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I looked around the room. It was your standard gynecologist’s exam room, stirrups and all. I shuddered inwardly. “Do you…um…do you do the egg…collection here?”

  “Yes. The other rooms are more suited to it. This room is considerably more comfortable and houses fewer medical gadgets, so we like to do our preliminary exams and hormone injections in here.”

  “Oh. So those injections…I’ve been studying up on them and have read they sometimes can cause complications like…” I placed my index finger on my lips, pretended to think. “Ovarian…hyper-something.” I laughed, putting my hand on his arm. “I tell you, that’s why I’m not a doctor. I can’t remember big science words.”

  He smiled. “Ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome. It’s a rare complication with egg donation, but one that can be easily treated here in the office. No reason for you to worry.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. That was really the only risk I was concerned about.” I leaned in closer to him. “You’re very good at putting my mind at ease.”

  Winking, he replied, “I aim to please.”

  I bit back another shudder. I preferred my gynecologists either old or female. My age, single, and charming was not what I wanted in this situation.

  He handed me an ugly hospital gown and a crisp white sheet. “Now, I’ll give you some privacy while you get changed into this.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he left the room, I dove for my phone to text Maya to let her know about the door. She’d probably already figured it out, but I also wanted to let her know the good doctor was out of my sight at the moment. I started to key in the text, but noticed that I had no service. Nothing. Not just one bar—it said very clearly No Service. What the hell? We weren’t that far underground. If I had no outside communication, it was definitely time to get the job done and get out of here. I changed as quickly as I could, surprised to find a tiny pocket in the gown big enough for the key card, so I stuck it in there just in case. I gingerly hoisted myself onto the exam table.

  A few minutes later, Micah’s voice crackled into the room. “Are you ready for me?”

  “Yes,” I called.

  There was a pause, and then he repeated, “Are you ready for me? You’ll have to push the button on the speaker by the door for me to hear you. Or you can swipe your card and let me in.”

  Okay, now this was super creepy. The place was soundproof. No wonder no cell signal was getting out. Nothing was getting out of this room. I shivered and slid down off the table and hopped to the door. I swiped my card and held open the door.

  Micah looked down at my leg and gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you about our silly intercom system. I bet you were already on the table, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, but that’s okay.”

  “Here, let me help you.”

  He put his arm around my waist and helped me hop back over to the table. After settling me onto the table, he put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and took my blood pressure. I tried with everything I had to calm down, but it wasn’t enough.

  With a puzzled expression on his face, he removed the cuff and scribbled something on his clipboard. “Your BP is one-forty over ninety-seven. A little high, don’t you think?”

  I sighed. “You got me. I’m nervous. You’ve done so great at calming my fears, but I’m still feeling a little anxious. And after the accident, even a tiny bit of exertion, like going to and from the door, makes my heart pound. I’m weak.”

  “That’s to be expected. Maybe we’ll take it again at the end and see if you haven’t calmed down some.”

  “Okay.”

  He went over to the small counter and retrieved a tray with blood-drawing paraphernalia on it. Bringing it back over to the exam table, he asked, “You’re okay with getting your blood drawn, right? No chance of fainting?”

  “Nope. I’m good,” I replied, holding out my right arm toward him. Him stabbing me with a needle was the least of my worries.

  He felt arou
nd for my vein and cleaned the area with alcohol, then slipped the needle in, causing no pain whatsoever. He took a couple vials, then put a bandage on my arm over the needle mark. Returning the tray to the counter, he changed his gloves and got out the dreaded speculum and a tube of lube. I had to stall him.

  Lucky for me, a voice rang into the room, “Dr. Perry, might I have a word?”

  The voice sounded familiar, and when Micah opened the door, there stood Dean Kingston.

  Chapter 34

  As Micah left and the door swung shut, I saw Dean’s eyes fall on me and become dark. Menacing, even. I figured it was time to cut the charade and run. I slithered down off the table and stumbled over to where I’d stashed my clothes, but the door opened before I could even get a foot into my pants.

  “Juliet, I know you don’t have a twin named Leslie,” Dean growled. “So why are you here pretending to be someone else?”

  I froze. “Dean, hi. I think there must have been some kind of mix-up with my information form. Dr. Perry kept calling me Leslie, and I couldn’t figure out why. Where is he, anyway?”

  Dean’s collagen-bloated lips twisted into a sneer. “Taking care of your little friend upstairs. Don’t bother trying to lie to me. I had you figured out from day one.”

  I put my hands on my hips. It was really difficult to be righteously indignant when only wearing a hospital gown and my underwear. “You did, huh? So does that mean you whacked me with a tennis racket on purpose?”

  “No, that was just a happy accident. But it’s going to pale in comparison to what I’m planning to do to you.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a long, thin piece of clear tubing.

  Gulping, I went cold all over. He was going to strangle me. Just like Brooke. And just like…

  I had to know. “Tell me, Dean, how long have you worked here in Nashville?”

  “What, are we going to have a conversation like a couple of friends now?”

  “Humor me before you choke the life out of me.”

  He smiled. “Okay, I’ll play. Twelve years.”

  “How long have you been affiliated with Genesis?”

  “Affiliated? Honey, I own the place. I built it from the ground up.”

  Ooh. The head honcho. “Oh. So you know Jack Beaumont a little better than you let on.”

  Leaning his head back, he laughed heartily. “You’re a smart cookie. I didn’t say anything about my history with Jack that wasn’t true, though.”

  “You just left out some key information.”

  “Right. Like the fact that I own him because of that little favor I did for him.”

  “What did he do that was so bad he had to become your bitch because of it?”

  He shrugged. “He killed a young patient.”

  “On purpose?”

  “No, it was truly an accident. But I might have done or said a few things to make it seem to be more his fault than it actually was.”

  “So you tricked him into becoming your bitch.”

  He chuckled. “You certainly have a way with words.”

  “Thanks. And you certainly have a way with hurting women.”

  Scowling, though without his pristine forehead wrinkling, he replied, “I do what I have to do.”

  “I see. So you give your egg-donor girls too big a dose of hormone injection so they’ll produce more eggs, then when they have complications from your mishandling and have to go to the hospital to get help, you have their medical records deleted and then either kill them or beat them up to shut them up?”

  He nodded. “That about sums it up. During extraction, we collect as many eggs as we can per donor. More commodity means more income. It’s business. And we’ve told the girls time and time again that OHSS is easily treatable here. But, unfortunately, some of them get hysterical about a little minor abdominal pain and go running to the hospital. When that happens, we have no choice but to take care of it.”

  “Of course. You wouldn’t want any kind of proof that your clinic is treating young girls like lab rats, would you? Could you imagine the malpractice suits if that got out?”

  “Exactly. Which is why I’m very disappointed that you had to stick your nose in the middle of it. I don’t want to have to kill you, Juliet. But I’m going to.”

  Pushing down the wave of panic surging inside me, I said, “We’ll get to that. We’re not done talking yet.”

  I needed more time. I could only hope Maya was kicking Dr. Micah’s ass right now instead of the other way around. As luck would have it, if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was keep a psychopath talking. My talent had been useful in several situations, but was still something I wished wasn’t in my skill set.

  I continued, “I get killing Amelia, attacking Brooke, and doing whatever it was you did to Kira—beating, brainwashing, whatever. Speaking of Kira, where is she?”

  “In the next room,” he said simply. At least Dean was easy to get information out of. He seemed to enjoy bragging about his exploits.

  “Alive?”

  “For now.”

  “Is she sedated or something? Why is she not screaming to get out?” I held up a hand, realizing I knew the answer to my own question. “Right. The soundproofing.”

  “She could yell twenty-four-seven and no one would ever know. This place used to be a recording studio. Sometimes the soundproofing is a pain, but sometimes it comes in handy.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “I’m smart.”

  I sighed. “I don’t get where Chelsea Stone fits in. Did you off her because she was Jack’s mistress? What, were you jealous?”

  He laughed again and shook his head. “I have to hand it to you putting everything together, but you’ve got the Jack and Chelsea thing totally wrong.”

  “You were the one who told me they were together!”

  “And you bought it. It was always my plan that if someone had to be sacrificed around here, Jack would be first on the list.”

  Something still didn’t make sense for me. “But I had a witness who saw the two of them together, and they were fighting.”

  “Chelsea wasn’t Jack’s mistress—she was one of his recruiters. His job is to oversee the recruiters and handle the donors. When Kira began showing signs of OHSS, she started shooting her mouth off to Chelsea about it and threatened to quit the program. Chelsea got upset and wanted out, too. She said she’d blow the whistle on us, so she had to be suppressed.”

  “Suppressed by whom? Jack?”

  He scoffed, “Jack’s too much of a pansy to kill anyone. Dr. Perry, however, has a real knack for it.”

  An icy wave of dread washed over me. Maya was a badass, but she was going up against a cold-blooded killer. I guessed I was pretty much doing the same. And to top it off, this guy’s ego was off the charts. I got what his sister was talking about with doctors and their God complexes.

  Upon thinking about my “friend” Lucinda, I asked, “Where does your sister fit into all this? Is she a recruiter, too?”

  “Yes, through the sleep clinic. Isn’t that where you got your invitation?”

  I nodded. “Does that mean she’s a bad guy, too?”

  Dean stuck out his lower lip, mocking me. “Oh, are you disappointed in your new friend? Well, don’t be. She was always a goody-goody when it came to ethics. She doesn’t know a thing about our more radical treatments.”

  “So you don’t always pump your donors too full of fertility drugs?”

  “Of course not. I’m not Victor freaking Frankenstein. We decide which donors can handle a little extra nudge and compensate them for it.”

  I crossed my arms. “So the poor girls get more juice because they’re hungrier for money.”

  He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s business.”

  “The hell it is! It’s life and death.”

  Dean smiled condescendingly. “You know, you’re adorable when you get angry.”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen me angry yet.”

  He pulled the IV line tight betwee
n his hands and began walking toward me. “And while I could talk to you all evening, I have things to do, so—”

  Holding my hands out in front of me and hopping backward against the wall, I cried, “Wait! One more question. How many women have you choked in a hospital supply closet with an IV line?”

  Dean’s eyes grew dark as he approached me and towered over me. “Two. Although I didn’t do quite as thorough a job with Brooke as I did with your boyfriend’s wife. If she ever wakes up, I’m going to have to finish the job. I won’t make the same mistake with you.”

  “I knew it! You killed Amanda Hamilton. You son of a bitch.” I was staring at the man who ruined (and shaped) Ryder’s adult life. “What did she ever do to you?”

  “Like Brooke—and you—she meddled in my business. That patient who Jack killed? She was a minor, only seventeen when she came to us. But, the business was young and we needed donors, so we took her against our better judgment. She, too, had complications and threatened to expose us, so she had to be dealt with. Then your boyfriend’s wife had to go and alert child services about the girl’s condition. So, she had to be dealt with as well.”

  When I’d first met Ryder, he told me a story about a young girl Amanda had treated in the ER. The girl wouldn’t give up the name of her abuser no matter what Amanda had done to try to convince her. Because the girl was seventeen, Amanda was required to contact child services, and after that Amanda started to receive death threats. Ryder hadn’t let her out of his sight except to go to work at the hospital, the one place he thought she’d be safe. He had always blamed himself for her death.

  Dean added, “I told your boyfriend if he didn’t keep you away from this investigation and away from him that I’d end you, too.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  The speaker crackled to life, and Ryder’s voice filled the room. “This is Detective Hamilton of the MNPD. Dean Kingston, come out with your hands up.”